Remembrance 10k, 2018

There was a right old hoolie on Friday night and before bed we packed our stuff in anticipation of a thoroughly wet race Saturday AM.  But we awoke to bright skies and headed to Fort Nelson on Portsdown Hill, a venue neither of us had ever been to.  I was enthralled by the the military hardware on display outside (and apparently they have part of the fabled Iraqi supergun inside), but the lovely Mrs S was rather less keen.

Now that's what I call a cannon

We met up with Dave, Tony, Julia and Ian from OS and Kate and family from Hampshire Hares and headed off to the start line.  We've learned that the Rural Running guys do great races but often with an element of charming chaos about them.  Today there was no loudhailer or PA system and the 300 or so runners all struggled to hear Jeff's shouted instructions.  A wave of solemn quiet spread through the crowd, as if by osmosis, as the remembrance silence began.  Then the 5k race began (unbeknown to most of the throng, as few could hear, and I suspect that some may have missed it).  Eventually the message got through that we (the 10k runners) needed to be on the other side of the start gantry and there was a comic five minutes of inverting the fast/slow sequence in a tight road space.

There was a very brisk start, and I tried to be sensible about this.  A couple with huskies were doing a comedy seven-league boots trick as their dogs charged ahead.  Round a corner and up a long gentle drag; I gently pulled up the field until there were two guys a way ahead of me.  Round another bend, and I overtook one of them as we hit the first km marker.

The second km was entirely downhill.  It was quite hard work to maintain any kind of technique on a steep-ish slope that went on for ever.  What goes down must come up, I pondered, recalling stories at the start line of a fearsomely hilly final section.  That second km went by in a tidy 3:13, but matey was a good way ahead of me.  But by the 3k marker I was thinking that maybe the gap was not widening.  By 4k I was clearly narrowing the gap.  We had two (and for me unexpected) dog-leg sections after this.  After the first dog-leg there was a water station, and matey (George, according to Strava, of which more later) stopped for a drink at there was I, halfway through, in pole position.

I was uncomfortable about this.  I like to have my enemies where I can see them, and pick them off.  It's not much fun to be competing against an unknown foe, or foes, who have paced better than you have and pick you off in the dying metres (what I call doing a Finch).  I had no choice here but to keep the pressure on and hope for the best.

The bulk of Portsdown Hill loomed ahead and I could just make out the top section of Nelson's Monument, which was next to the start and finish line.  The hill began, I started overtaking the tail end of the 5k race (plenty of breathless well dones) and I kept imagining the sound of footsteps behind me. Onward, upwards and I hit the finish line in first place!

Nelson's Monument

Now, the quality of the field was not terribly high.  It was a million miles from the savage competition of the Hants XC league or the fast runners of the RR10s.  No epic struggles with my old mate Gerry (a la Wickham 10k).  But I was thrilled to bag the trophy on a super course on a beautiful morning.

My time was 39:30.  Here are my Garmin and Strava stats. And check out the race between me and George on Strava flyby - great fun.

Greatly looking forward to the Broadway marathon next Sunday!